The Beach
by Mag8889
Summary: Bucky Barnes as the Winter Soldier... finds himself totally defensless, in a situation he'd never been before... surrounded by total strangers... I got an idea for this story about a week or two ago, and it's been nagging me almosty EVER day, so... here you have it, read and enjoy.
1. Water

The Beach

First sensation was the cold of water, moisture peeking through his combat suit, kissing back of his head and messing up his hair.

The second sensation was a groan, a groan leaving his body. It hurt. He tested a move but all the muscle response became a spasm of pain. His spine wished not to be shifted.

So he rested, in total stillness, still closing his eyes. His shady memory hadn't managed to gather necessary information. He could not remember who he was but he remembered an explosion, its blast so powerful that it blinded him and swept off his feet flying... apparently, to this very beach. Because it was a beach. He remembered.

„A beach..." He muttered through rough lips. It tasted with salt and blood.

Regaining more hearing powers, through a mild headache, a sound of waves delicately massaged his ears. It caused his mind to explode with pleasure. Orgasmic feeling poured down, from the neck to the wet back and further, through loins. Sounds of steady waves, like nothing he ever experienced...

A poke. Into his thigh. He gasped.

An exotic, hard-accented language reached his ears, breaking through calming waves. He couldn't stand it. He opened his eyes. It brought more pain. Foggy vision synchronized with voices of two Blacks standing above him, with visible curiosity and fear in their young eyes. They must had been teenagers. And one of them was holding a stick, a stick that kept on nagging him.

He muttered something, realizing that each and every muscle of his body aches and burns. The less interested boy backed off when his cold eyes pierced him, but the second one kept on messing with the stick, apparently happy that the strange man responds. Winter Soldier reached and stretched his metal arm, that glanced in the sun. This arm wasn't hurting. He clutched the stick in the steel grab. It cracked under the lightest touch he applied.

The soldier smiled with satisfaction. The boy flinched a bit, giggle was replaced with a confused grim.

A few hard-edged words flowed towards him, but his hazy mind couldn't comprehend. It hurt, lack of communication hurt. He sent the boys another intense glance, and it occurred to him. Their language, he never knew it or he... forgot...

„Arrrghhh!" That was his communication.

Both boys took two steps back when the alien, white man wriggled for a second on the wet sand. With full sensation of an arising agony, his breath rose quickly and fast, and his face flustered, in an unusual pink hue, that almost fascinated his watchers.

There was more blood to taste. He started panicking. Another gaze onto his only and random companions... he was afraid to die here, on this foreign beach.

„H- help..." It was not more than a stifled moan, almost unrecognizable among the noise of waves.

Metal arm went up and tried to reach them, until it fell to the humid beach, limp.

When he came back again, he tried to shift his body. Because of voices, so many voices, belonging to adults...

"Don't move."

This sound gave him a chill. A soft but deep female voice. A rugged accent.

He took a couple of shallow breaths, feeling fever building up in his forehead.

"It... it hurts." He replied roughly, voice braking down immediately into a gasp.

"Your back is completely broken, you spat with blood, yet you're still alive..." Said the voice. "You must be a demon..." There was some kind of a satisfactory insult in her tone.

A gentle hand rushed through his hair, apparently applying something on his head. Cold water kept on flushing under his neck. He murmured.

"We can't move you. You may die." Another touch, but on his chest." Why do you have a metal arm, demon?"

He growled, when his armor loosen up. "I'm... I'm not a demon..."

The metal arm... he couldn't remember.

"Show me your eyes." Demanded the woman, as she hadn't received an answer. "Show me if you have light in your eyes."


	2. Fire

There were glimpses of light dancing under his eyelids. He took a breath and moaned under the pressure of pain. The body was no longer cooled, all the senses came back to their place.

„Don't kill me." He muttered, with fever swiping his sanity deeper.

„You'd be dead..." Said familiar voice.

He shifted a bit, ignoring ache in his back. There was no gritty sand anywhere, just softness. An uneasy notion started arising in his mind. Struggling to open his eyes, he rose up abruptly stretching the relentless metal arm.

"Don't do this! Fool!" Shouted the woman, just when he saw a fire, happily flickering in the darkness of the night.

Wrench in his muscles pulled him down like a shot animal. There was no way to save himself.

I'm lost... he thought, after falling like a stone to the sheets. The body armor was gone. They took everything.

"A demon and so stupid!" She reprimanded.

Her skin was the darkest one he'd seen so far. She felt scary, he remembered this woman looking into his eyes... it made him flinch.

"I am not a demon..." He clenched a brown blanket in his metal hand. She hadn't moved him from an uncomfortable position he landed. "But I kill people."

She sent him an intrigued look, as if she was satisfied. "Well, boys from the village can tell you the same. These aren't calm times. What kind of a business a white devil like you has here? They took your things and they wanted to cut off the arm!"

Winter Soldier scowled at a thought of losing his only weapon, being dragged out and chopped like a piece of meat. He felt her eyesight.

"Well, if you won't talk, they will make you talk." She was so straightforward that it almost intimidated him. But easy sound of burning fire made him feel a little softer.

"I..." He looked down onto rugged sheets, trying to gather any useful information from before the blast. He inhaled deeply when fever took its toll. "I can't remember." He replied with weak voice and sent her a helpless glance. "I'm sorry, but I can't." It gave him a nauseous notion of how pitiful he was.

The woman turned her head with something like slight disappointment. Her eyes glowing in the countur of dark skin. Fire playing with shadows on her face.

"Than how you know that you kill people?! Did you come to kill someone? Candidate for the president?!" Her words were harsh and her piercing eyes relentless.

Soldier gasped. Fire was taking over his body. A shiver went up his damaged spine.

Woman cursed in her hard language, seeing demon's eyes going immediately glassy. She became anxious of how incredibly fast a change had taken place in his body. It was very hot all the sudden, so hot that she felt the warmth radiating stronger than the bright fire.

"лед..." Whispered the man, while she tried to put him back in order. His body was wet and glistening. She could not help to wonder about these looks as she turned him with an effort to his back. So she grabbed the blanked and took a few seconds longer, admiring a sculpture of the muscles glittering in the sparkles of light... but that was no time to have fun.

"Zola..."

She winced, trying to make out some kind of sense of these words. A white man, dressed like an elite soldier, regenerating like a demon, and now, speaking more than just English... she bit her lip, realizing what might be happening here. And it was a menacing sensation.

She stepped out and called for one of the men wondering outside. He replied something angrily but soon she came back with him.

The Soldier was able to hear pieces of the conversation, fighting back the fever and involuntary chills that were sending him back and forward into consciousness. He expected to taste more blood, but it was just his dry mouth.

Exchange of words was fast. The woman was clearly explaining something to the other man. The tone of discussion became more escalated, as she raised her voice but he shouted suddenly and cut her off.

The Soldier moaned, trying to get free out of the sickness. His back seemed to be doing pretty fine now, even though his joints were burning through the skin.

Two people became quiet and he felt that the man is approaching with a heavy step. He said something quietly and the woman protested. He knew she protested, it was the same tone... the same tone he used... when they wanted to freeze him.

Sudden realization sent him flying up. His body jumped, scaring the other man a feet away. The sheets awkwardly tangled around his waits and legs. Within a disappointing second, he recognized that his combat boots are gone. Luckily, the pants were left.

He froze like a cat, staring at the frightened man. The soldier measured his opponent. Combat training, non-military, a machete in his right hand.

The woman yelped with palms on her lips, expecting the worst.

The world whirled for a moment. He blinked fast and took a deep breath. The air tasted with heat and humidity, like nothing he remembered. But what he could remember?

"I'm not here to fight you... I just want to leave." He said slowly, raising his hands. There was no sense in making it harder on her.

The black man sent him a dirty look, seeing that the demon is indeed, a human. And has scars.

"Why I should let you?" The accent was a bit heavier, but stress made him understand every word.

"You helped me, now I have to go. They are looking for me. I'm dangerous." The only explanation of his hectic mind...

"You come here, make bombs, bring more soldiers and now you want to leave?!" The reply was nothing of understanding. The aggressive man and machete moved forward and Soldier started regretting what has to happen next.

"Please!" He slowly forwarded his right arm opened, as if it meant something. In his peripheral vision he saw more people gathering outside. He became even more worried but his combat training tickled him pleasantly. "I'm leaving all you've taken from me. Your people will be in danger if I stay here!"

A few shouts sounded from the background. The soldier though he saw a shape of a machine gun in one of the hands. He swallowed.

The woman called to them in her language. It sounded like impatient begging. More nervous voices arose. He really didn't want to kill anybody. There was no order...

"I'm not going to fight you. See, I'm giving up..." He leaned towards the wall and still holding his hands up, he drifted to the floor. His vision became foggy for a few seconds.

"I can let you leave." Uttered the man with machete. The Soldier tired to feel a relief... "But with one condition!"

It was a matter of a few moments. His body reacted flawlessly, when a gleam of metal blade closed up. Block. A loud, metallic bang. Kick, grab by the throat.

The black man was breathing in panic, as demon was holding him by his throat with cold, metal arm. Machete stinging exactly where his kidney was. And all the sudden he became a human shield.

People outside became agitated, but many stepped back into the twilight.

The soldier had no doubt about the power of his metal arm, even though he couldn't remember how he received that limb. He sent a freezing look to the crowd and the woman gasped in terror.

"I'm sorry." He said shortly, but somewhat inert. "Now! You'll listen to me!" He shouted and it sounded a bit alien to himself. A bit like not exactly him. There was an impression of a mask protecting his face.


End file.
